If You Only Knew
by BeGodlyBeLynn
Summary: A series of vignettes about Shepard, Garrus, and the trials they must face together. Realized there was no real plot to this thing. Now it's just a big vault of vignettes. :D
1. Precedence

**A/N: This is for ITestedGarrussReach, who asked for a Garrus/FemShep fanfic. Ask and you shall receive.**

**THIS Shepard is called Emily, formerly romanced Kaidan Alenko. Colonist, War Hero; Kasumi, Zaeed, and LotSB are in this one, as well as the Normandy crash site.  
This is for all the Garrus fans out there. Enjoy!**

If You Only Knew, Chapter 1

"Omega. What a pisshole." Shepard dimly registered the clipped, cool voice of the Cerberus officer behind her. "I had to come here on business once. I felt like I needed a shower afterward…in addition to regular decontamination…"

Emily could only agree. The place was filthy, the very air seemed to cling to her skin, and the lighting gave the whole place a foreboding atmosphere. Still, there was good tech to be found in its markets and potential squadmates in the streets, so here they were.

Afterlife was just as dark and filthy as the rest of Omega. The only difference was the music pounding through the air and the dancers that twisted around poles, much to the delight of the patrons. Drunken yells blended in with the music and Shepard blanched. Never had she been in a nightclub as awful as this one.

Her clear green eyes surveyed the area and she spied an asari surrounded by guards, gazing out at the scene before her with veiled contempt and pride. Shepard regarded her from a distance. If this wasn't Aria T'Loak, then Jacob had a personality.

She made her way to the back of the club and climbed two flights of stairs, acknowledging the batarian at the steps with a nod. Aria seemed to sense the Spectre's presence.

Without turning around, she said, "That's close enough."

Aria's voice was that of someone who had the world in her hands and knew it. It reverberated with confidence and power, and Shepard found herself rather intimidated by this new power. She concealed this, however, allowing only a contemptuously raised eyebrow as Aria's security detail trained their weapons on her and her companions.

A batarian, which Emily recognized as Moklan, held out his omni-tool to scan her. "Stand still," he said gruffly.

She smirked and grabbed the guard's collar, pulling him within an inch of her face. "Try it, and you'll be scanning the inside of your colon," she snapped.

Aria T'Loak laughed sarcastically. "I'd almost pay to see that," she drawled. "But it's not an option. You want to talk, you get scanned."

Shepard rolled her eyes and let the batarian continue his scanning. "All you had to do was ask."

"I don't ask."

"I had some questions I was hoping you could answer."

Only when the scan was done did Aria turn around. "Depends on the questions."

"You run Omega?"

The asari laughed, as if the question was completely insipid. She turned away from Shepard, glorifying in the view before her. "I _am_ Omega."

She turned back around and regarded Shepard with a suspicious eye, evaluating her as a potential threat. "But you want more. Everything wants more something and they all come to me." Her lips curved up in a smile. "I'm the boss, CEO, queen—if you're feeling dramatic. It doesn't matter." Aria sat down on the couch against the wall, at ease.

"Omega has no ruler and only one rule," she said, relishing the words on her tongue. "Don't fuck with Aria."

Emily arched her eyebrow into the air. "I like it. Easy to remember."

"If you forget, someone will remind you."

It took a while for them to get down to business. Mordin Solus was in the slums of Omega, running a clinic. This wasn't surprising—he was a doctor, after all.

The bit about Archangel was a little more intriguing. He was apparently a turian vigilante who'd managed to piss off every major merc group in the Terminus, and they'd teamed up to corner him in his hideout. Time was of the essence, it seemed. Shepard got up to leave, thanking Aria for the information.

"You have all the time in the world," she sneered. "Archangel? Not so much."

Archangel took precedence, then. Shepard looked forward to meeting this guy.

* * *

"Archangel?"

The turian held up a single talon, motioning at her to wait. The gun spat out a single bullet, and Shepard heard the audible death cry of a human merc.

The presumed Archangel turned back to her and she surveyed the towering figure. There was something hauntingly familiar about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, and then he removed his helmet.

Commander Emily Shepard almost fainted.

"Shepard," the turian said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I…I thought you were dead."

Her eyes widened. "Garrus!" She held out her arms to her old friend. "What are you doing here?"

* * *

**Garrus POV**

Garrus didn't quite know what he was doing on Omega, either.

It had started with a news report, followed by a funeral announcement. _Lieutenant Commander Emily Shepard has been killed in action._ When he first heard it, Garrus had not wanted to believe. Dead? How could she be dead? It was impossible.

The funeral had been rather interesting to behold. Tali cried for the entire hour. Wrex had been downing ryncol faster than anyone could. Kaidan had sat in his chair, staring directly ahead, as if numbly rooted to the spot. As for Garrus, he'd just felt…detached. It had been hard to describe the feeling.

Suddenly life was just a directionless cycle of misery, anger, and grief. Garrus had been dismissed from Spectre training after multiple failures in essential training. He'd returned to C-Sec as an investigations officer, but that quickly became a pain as well when his father turned up on the scene. Vakarian Senior had wasted no time in berating his son on even considering Spectre training, and blamed it on Shepard's insipid prompting.

Garrus had spent a month wandering around like a vagrant, lost and confused. Finally, he had picked up the sniper rifle Emily had given him and bought a one-way ticket to Omega.

And here he was.

Hearing Shepard's voice in the darkness of his hideout two years later was like a spark, a tiny pinprick of light that quickly flared up in his heart. It was as if her return had restored purpose to his once meaningless life.

Whatever this purpose was, Garrus resolved to find it, but it wasn't quite that simple.

He resolved to find it with Shepard.

**A/N: This is definitely going to be a story with more chapters to it. They may be slow in the coming though. **

**Review, please. I'd still like feedback. Bring on the criticism. I can Handel it! :D**


	2. Blue Blood

If You Only Knew, Chapter 2

Almost blind with rage, Shepard fired her gun one last time. The superheated round buried itself in the tank of the gunship and it exploded in a great fireball of shrapnel and chunks of steel. She shielded her eyes from the blast.

As the fire from the explosion died away, so did her fury. The red haze vanished from Emily's mind and she slowly began to take in the recovering figures of Miranda and Zaeed, and a hulking, prone figure lying unmoving on the ground. Garrus…Garrus… Dread collected in the pit of her stomach.

"Garrus," she muttered, stumbling over to him. She fell on her knees in a growing pool of turian blood. She shook him gently and his eyes fluttered open. He opened his mouth in a strangled gasp as he struggled for air.

"Garrus!" she cried, her eyes widening in panic. _No. _She could almost feel his consciousness slipping away from him. _No. _His eyes were beginning to close.

"Radio Joker!" The order came as a cry of anguish. "Make sure they're ready for us!"

"We should hurry," Miranda said tersely. "I don't know if we can move him."

Shepard resisted the urge to cry as Zaeed waved his omni-tool over the turian to apply a dose of medi-gel.

* * *

"…the doctors did the best they could, but he took a bad hit."

Shepard's heart sank. She didn't come this far to lose someone else, did she?

"He's probably going to be out for a few hours, but he should be back on his feet—"

Jacob broke off. She turned around and her spirits suddenly rose again when she saw Garrus walk through the door of the comm room. Speak of the devil.

"Tough son of a bitch," Jacob said, impressed. "I didn't think he would be up yet."

He left, leaving the two of them alone. Garrus looked pretty bad. A chunk of his armor had been blasted off, and one mandible was a raw, bloody mess. Pain gripped her when she realized how much it must hurt.

And yet, he managed to maintain a cheerful disposition.

"Nobody would give me a mirror. How bad is it?"

Emily smiled. Some things never change. "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face-paint on there and nobody will even notice!"

He laughed, then grimaced with pain. "Ugh. Don't make me laugh, damn it…my face is barely holding together as it is."

She chuckled. "Noted."

There was a long silence between them. His ice blue eyes flashed with an array of emotions. Concern, regret, relief, and…something she couldn't quite identify. Couldn't, or wouldn't.

"This is real, isn't it?" he croaked.

"Pretty much."

He sighed. "I, ah…I missed having you around."

"Me too."

Another pause. Shepard felt color rising to her cheeks for some reason.

"Well, then."

Shepard cleared her throat. "Why don't you get settled in, Garrus…get some rest."

He nodded, acknowledging his orders. "Understood, Commander. I'm ready for duty whenever you need me."

He left, leaving Shepard alone to decipher what had just passed between them. She could feel a small seed of emotion take root in the pit of her stomach, spreading its warm tendrils across her chest. She stubbornly pushed it down. There were other things to attend to.

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! Thanks a million to everyone who favorite this, alert it, or both. It's nice to know someone's reading. =) Thanks also to ITestedGarrussReach for her lovely reviews and whatnot, and yes this is for you. Hope you enjoy it! I've got a pretty good idea of where this is going to go now. Once this semester is over I should have a lot less on my plate so expect more consistent chapters in the near future. **

**As always, please review. Feedback is every writer's drug.**


	3. Look to the Horizon

If You Only Knew, Chapter 3

**Shepard POV**

Shepard staggered to her feet. Her legs felt stiff, her ears were ringing, and the rifle felt heavy in her hands. She rose over her cover gingerly and vaulted over, her eyes assimilating to the light just in time to see the bright flash of the Collector ship's thrusters coming to life.

"They're pulling out!" She dimly recognized Grunt's voice as she shielded her eyes and the ground shook with the force of the ship. They could only watch helplessly as the misshapen vessel streaked away across the sky with half the colony in tow.

"No! Don't let them get away!"

She turned around to see the old mechanic, finally out of his hidey-hole. His eyes were full of dismay as he watched the ship go.

"It's too late," she said, her voice raw. "There's nothing we can do."

The old man began to protest. "Half the colony's on there! You can't just—"

"I can't stop them. I did what I could."

"More than most, Shepard," Garrus added quietly.

Recognition flashed in the mechanic's eyes. "Shepard? Wait." He turned on her. "I know that name."

His voice turned to disdain. "Sure, I know who you are. You're some big Alliance hero, right?"

Emily arched an eyebrow and he was sure she was going to respond with a stinging retort, but before she could a new voice joined the conversation.

"Commander Shepard, captain of the Normandy, first human Spectre, savior of the Citadel." Shepard could feel her mind rapidly going numb. "You're in the presence of a legend, Delan. And a ghost."

Could it be?

Her mind refused to accept the sight of Kaidan Alenko, standing in front of him with her eyes full of wonder. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him. Because if it was...if it was Kaidan…

_Why does he look so angry?_

_

* * *

_

**Garrus POV**

Garrus froze when he heard the voice, and so did Shepard. He barely heard the old mechanic scoff in contempt and storm away. All he could really register was Kaidan…and Shepard.

A strong emotion ripped through him when the Sentinel took Shepard into his arms and he felt an overpowering urge to blow Kaidan's head off. Without thinking, he stepped forward but abruptly stopped himself when Grunt snickered. Fortunately, the humans didn't notice.

What happened next was…interesting, to say the least. Kaidan threw accusations at his lover, his eyes burning.

"You've turned your back on everything we believed in, Shepard! I wanted to believe that you were alive, but I never expected anything like this!"

"Kaidan, I was clinically dead! Cerberus brought me back so I could investigate these attacks! You—"

His eyes roved over her companions. "Garrus, too. I can't believe this."

Shepard was getting impatient. "Kaidan, you know me. You know I'd only do this for the right reasons. You saw it yourself"— she pointed at the ruined colony for emphasis—"the Collectors are attacking human colonies. And they're working for the Reapers!"

Kaidan shrugged. "What if _they're_ behind it? Cerberus could be using the threat of a Reaper to manipulate you!"

Any semblance Garrus had of patience vanished at this point. He'd always figured Kaidan for a rational guy, but now, going off about Cerberus like they were the Reapers themselves… "Dammit, Kaidan! You're so focused on Cerberus that you're forgetting about the real threat!"

"Maybe," Alenko said, "Or maybe you're the one who's not thinking straight." He turned away. "I have to report back to the Alliance. Maybe they'll believe your story."

"Wait!" Shepard's voice was bordering on pleading, and the emotion returned. Garrus had to fight to keep it down. "Don't go, Kaidan. Come with me…it'll be like old times."

Kaidan looked back once, and the turian saw a hint of the old Kaidan return to his cold brown eyes. "No, it won't. I'll never work for Cerberus."

And then he was gone. Shepard dropped her hand to her side, staring helplessly after him. After a long silence, she hung her head and stifled a sob.

Garrus raised a taloned hand, as if to comfort her, but thought better of it. Strictly professional, he told himself.

Keeping her voice tightly under control, Shepard put her hand up to her earpiece. "Joker, we're ready for pickup. I've had enough of this colony."

She turned back to her companions and it shocked Garrus to see the cold grief behind her hazel eyes. "Let's go."

* * *

**Shepard POV**

_Shepard,_

_I'm sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the Normandy. It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I'd finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to let myself have a life again, you know?_

_Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don't know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me... maybe it meant as much to you. But a lot has changed in the last two years and I can't just put that aside._

_But please be careful. I've watched too many people close to me die - on Eden Prime, on Virmire, on Horizon, on the Normandy. I couldn't bear it if I lost you again. If you're still the woman I remember I know you'll find a way to stop these Collector attacks. But Cerberus is too dangerous to be trusted. Watch yourself._

_When things settle down a little... maybe... I don't know. Just take care._

_-Kaidan_

She read the message over and over, her mind numb. Did he actually expect her to accept this as an apology?

_I hope you enjoy disappointment_, she thought dryly as she deleted the message.

She watched the message disappear from her inbox. Feeling utterly wretched, she drew her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms. She wanted to cry.

_Spectres don't cry_, she reminded herself. She reached for the bottle on the shelf and made to take a long drink when she thought better of it. It would not do, she decided, to track down Tali in geth space with a hangover.

Cursing herself, Shepard rose out of her chair and headed for the elevator, hoping to find something to occupy herself with.

* * *

Strangely enough, she ended up in the main battery with Garrus.

"Shepard. What can I do for you?"

She shrugged and sat down on a box. "Have time to talk?"

"Sure...just killing time, anyway."

There was a long silence. Garrus studied her worriedly, thinking.

"That must have been hard," he said finally.

"Yeah," she agreed. "It was."

"Are you okay?"

Emily dropped her gaze. "I don't know."

"Well, I'm here to talk, if you need it."

She looked up, surprised at his gesture. "I...okay. Thanks, Garrus."

There was another silence. Finally, Emily got up to leave.

"I'm going to make preparations for Haestrom," she said. "Get yourself ready."

Garrus cracked a toothy turian grin. "Just like old times, Commander."

"Just like old times."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Shamefully, I almost forgot about this fiction collecting dust in my Fanfiction folder. Meh. . Well, here's chapter 3.**

**I hope this satisfies your reading desires. Winter break starts pretty soon, so that means more time a) preparing for the Edison HS Model UN debate, and b) cranking out chapters to satisfy my lovely readers! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story. It's nice to know that I'm doing something right. Hah. **

**Thanks also to ITestedGarrussReach, who remains a steadfast reviewer of my painfully slow-coming stories. I admire your patience, my dear. This one is for you. :)**


	4. Growing Pains

If You Only Knew, Chapter 4

**Garrus POV**

Garrus would have thought it was impossible, but Haestrom was way hotter than Palaven had ever been.

The sun beat down on their backs, scorching their shields and armor alike. The geth didn't help. He envied Kasumi for her hood and her cloaking ability—one for the sun and one for the geth. To give her credit, the thief pulled her weight just as well as anyone else. As Garrus picked off the psychotic VIs one at a time, he couldn't help but feel nostalgic. It was just like old times—fighting through geth and rescuing a quarian from danger…he smiled in spite of the situation. This was where he belonged, fighting at Shepard's side.

Add a Colossus to the mix, and it was like Shepard had never died.

_Just like old times_, he thought dryly as he dove behind cover, barely missing a missile screaming past his ear. He risked a shot at the metal motherfucker before ducking back in cover, cursing as a bullet grazed his neck.

Shepard streaked past him in a flash of bright biotic blue, and Garrus heard the gratifying sound of crumpling synthetic material as her charge found its mark. He chanced a glance at the battlefield, searching for a window for a shot, and was almost blinded by a deafening blast.

Yelling out in shock, Garrus covered his eyes and looked back just in time to see the remnants of a mushroom cloud dissipating into the Haestrom air. What the hell…

The Colossus was gone—it had literally been evaporated by whatever Shepard had been using. Shaking his head in disbelief, Garrus ran over to where Shepard was already pulling power cells out of an ammunition box.

"What the hell was that?"

Emily shrugged and grinned. "Cerberus technology. I must say…it's growing on me. Come on. Let's go get Tali."

He nodded and followed her to the blast door with the welcome voice of Tali'Zorah in his earpiece.

* * *

"Reegar! You made it!"

The relief in Tali's voice was almost palpable. Garrus sneaked a glance at his Commander, who was wearing a barely concealed smirk on her face as she turned to the quarian commander. "I'm taking Tali with me," she informed him. "Do you need assistance? We can help you get back to the shuttle."

Kal'Reegar shook his head. "I should be fine. As long as there isn't another dropship, the ship should still be there. I should get going. Take care of yourself…Tali."

He limped out of sight. Shepard waited until he was out of earshot before looking up at Garrus, a smirk playing on her face. "D'awwww."

"What?" Tali said indignantly.

"Our little girl is growing up," she teased.

"What—no—it's not like that," the remaining quarian protested.

Shepard clapped her old friend on the shoulder. "Sure it isn't. Come on. Let's roll out."

She shot Garrus a meaningful look as they walked out, leaving him to trail behind them and try to decipher what it meant.

**Shepard POV**

"Commander, Garrus received some news that put fire in his eyes. You should check up on him."

Shepard jerked her head up from the railing of the galaxy map. "What…? Okay."

Sighing, she heaved herself off of the bar and trudged over to the elevator. God, but she felt so drained. Maybe it was Haestrom, or maybe it was those monotonous hours spent scanning planets—mostly for boredom, really—but she knew deep down that seeing Kaidan again, like _that_, had sucked the energy out of her.

The elevator hissed open and Shepard stepped inside, punching the button for the third deck and watching the doors slide shut. She dropped her chin down on her chest, exhausted. What she wouldn't give for a nice nap…

But then, with a tinny "ding," the doors opened and Shepard found herself walking towards the main battery. Garrus was hunched over the controls, like he was trying to look busy, but turned around when she entered.

"Shepard…glad you came by. I need to talk to you about something."

She gave what she hoped was an encouraging nod. His eyes momentarily hit the floor, then returned to hers.

"I never got a chance to tell you what happened on Omega, did I?"

Shepard froze. A block of ice slid into her stomach as she realized that she hadn't even bothered to check up on Garrus and investigate as to why half of his face was missing. Had she really been that far away? She cursed herself.

"What did happen to you?" Now that she actually thought it over, questions came tumbling out. "Who were those people wrapped up on the ground?"

There was a beat of silence. Garrus looked away, and she knew.

"They were your squad, weren't they?"

"Yeah." The single word, laden with grief and bitterness, shocked her.

"I'm sorry," she said awkwardly.

"Yeah."

She cleared her throat, aware that the tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife. "How?"

"It was my damn fault. One of my men betrayed me. A turian named Sidonis."

Shepard nodded, urging him to continue.

"He called me out on an assignment…said he needed my help…but when I got there, he wasn't. By the time I got back, seven guys were dead. And the others didn't last so long." He paused, his eyes clouded with bitterness. "Sidonis is the only one still alive."

Garrus paused, as though lost in a bad memory, and there was silence. Finally, Shepard spoke.

"Do you know where he is?"

"I do now."

Pause.

"Care to elaborate?"

"I contacted a guy named Fade, who specializes in helping people disappear. He might have some information…I arranged to meet him on the Citadel."

She nodded. "I'll chart a course to the Citadel, then."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the holdup. I haven't had much opportunity to think about this, but I haven't forgotten (don't worry). New chapters are in the works!**


	5. The Things We Do

If You Only Knew, Chapter 4

"Dammit, Shepard! Stand aside!"

But she remained resolute. "Look at him, Garrus. There's nothing left to kill."

"He left good men to die that day!" Garrus spat. "Stand aside! Let me finish this!"

"They threatened my life, Garrus." The shaking voice of Sidonis reached his ears. "I didn't want to, but I didn't have a choice."

His grip tightened on the rifle. "_That's not good enough!_"

"Garrus!" Shepard's voice returned. "Don't sink to his level."

Pride was the last thing on his mind at the moment. Revenge was just a finger twitch away, and if Shepard was in the way…he pressed down ever so slightly on the trigger.

What the hell was he thinking?

Garrus was shocked at himself. Had Sidonis driven him to the point where he'd be willing to put a bullet through his only friend just to get to _him_?

He eyeballed Sidonis through his scope.

_He's not worth it._

He lowered the gun. "Let him go, Shepard," he said resignedly. "I'm done."

He vaguely registered Shepard telling Sidonis to leave as he holstered his rifle. As he went to meet her at the skycar, he realized he felt emptier than he had before.

* * *

**Shepard POV**

The ride back to the Normandy was full of horrible, awkward silence. She hadn't expected anything less.

The moment they'd touched down in the shuttle bay, Garrus had brushed past her and stormed up to the main battery. She watched him go with a gutwrenching pang of guilt.

After a long deliberation, she followed him.

"Garrus?"

He turned his head ever so slightly. When he spoke, his voice was ice cold.

"What do you want from me, Shepard?"

"I want to talk about what happened."

Garrus turned around. "There's nothing to say," he said flatly. "Sidonis got away."

"I'm proud of you, Garrus," she said quietly. "You took the chance to be the better man."

"Since when does pride figure into this?"

She scrutinized him, her eyes narrowed and her stance defensive. "Why, Garrus?"

"What?"

"Why were you so driven on killing Sidonis? He betrayed you, sure, but…I saw something in you that I'd never seen before. I'm worried."

"Don't," he growled. "Leave it, Shepard."

"Don't be stupid."

Those three words, however simple, sent him over the edge. Garrus moved so quickly she didn't even have time to react; hitting her upside the head so that her vision was spinning and she felt something hot and sticky trickling down her temple. Emily gasped and caught herself on the wall, struggling to stand.

Her ears ringing, she faced him, biting back tears of pain and wrath. "What, Garrus?" she panted. "Hit me again, I dare you."

He was very still for a moment, his body seemingly quivering with rage. But as quickly as it came, the red haze faded.

"If I thought hitting me would make you any better, I'd let you do it again," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "But it won't. Make a damn decision, Garrus. Pull your shit together, or get off my ship."

She left, her fingers working to staunch the blood coming from her cut. Garrus did not move, simply stood rooted to the spot as she slowly made her way to the med bay.

* * *

"The cut looks bad, Shepard," Chakwas said, concerned. "What caused this?"

Emily shrugged. "Hit my head on the shuttle," she lied. "Didn't know it was this bad until Miranda told me I was bleeding."

"So I see," Chakwas said in a neutral voice, but Shepard knew she didn't buy it. Mercifully, she said nothing.

A few more stinging jabs and Chakwas wiped the rest of the blood off her face, satisfied. "All done," she said. "You should probably stay here overnight, Shepard."

Shepard shook her head dazedly and shrugged off a helpful arm, limping towards the elevator. She was keenly aware of Garrus's piercing stare on her until she disappeared into the lift.

It wasn't until Shepard had curled up on her bed that the pain overwhelmed her and made it hard to breathe. It wasn't just physical pain, either—it hurt to see Garrus descending to the level of something he was not, it hurt to see just how much he had suffered, and it was all…her…fault.

Great, heaving sobs wracked her body, making her chest hurt and her head throb. First Kaidan, now Garrus…she cried uncontrollably, the tears stinging her eyes. It seemed like every pent-up emotion that had plagued her since she woke up was spilling out onto the mattress, and Shepard had never felt so lonely, or wretched, in her life. She curled up into a ball and cried until she was out of tears, pining for Kaidan, for Garrus, for anyone to please come and make it better.

She was soon aware of someone else in the room. She blinked and the blurry silhouette in her vision cleared, revealing the hulking form of Garrus standing in the doorway.

"Garrus," she croaked.

"Shepard, I—" He broke off, his blue eyes apologetic. "I'm so sorry."

She nodded and weakly reached for him, a bloody hand pawing the sheets feebly in an attempt to get to him. Garrus crossed the room and sat down next to her, not protesting when she crawled over and put her head in his lap. He was still for a while, but then his hands gently fingered the fresh cut on her forehead.

"I didn't realize…" he murmured. "Oh, spirits, I'm so sorry."

"'S'fine," she muttered and coughed dryly. He gasped.

"Shepard—oh shit—" He pulled her upright swiftly, staring in shock. She brought up her hand and coughed again, frowning in confusion until she saw the fine mist of blood on her palm. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was his strong arms picking her up and carrying her off somewhere.


	6. For The Ones We Love

If You Only Knew, Chapter 6

**A/N: Woo! I didn't expect this to take off like it did. Well, even I'm impressed—2,205 hits for five (not counting this one) chapters, 10 faves, and 25 alerts! Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this—it warms my heart. 3 Thanks especially to ITestedGarrussReach, to whom this fic is dedicated. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Garrus POV**

"It must have been worse than I thought," Chakwas commented. "What, she just started coughing blood?"

"Yeah," Garrus said tersely. "I don't know what happened."

The doctor nodded, her eyes on her patient. Shepard was still unconscious, an IV trailing from her arm. The cut had been cleaned and stitched up again, but she hadn't ruled out the possibility of a hemorrhage.

There was a long silence as they stood together. Casting a sideways glance at Chakwas, Garrus could tell the gears in her head were turning madly. Finally, she turned to him.

"You don't have anything to do with this, do you?"

"I'm sorry? What do you mean, Doctor…?"

"Don't patronize me, Garrus." The intelligent eyes of the human standing next to him drilled two holes in his head. "I know she didn't get that from a damned shuttle."

He said nothing.

She sighed. "Fine," she said dryly.

Her eyes flicked down to his hand, and her eyebrows arched ever so slightly, but she nodded like she understood. Turning away, Chakwas left him to his own devices.

Almost against his own will, Garrus found his hand lightly tracing the glowing orange cybernetics webbing her face. Humans are so soft, he mused. Her breath ghosted across his fingers and he stayed there, mesmerized. A part of him wondered how awkward it would be if she opened her eyes right then, but she didn't, and he stayed there until Chakwas shooed him away to do some more tests. As he left, Garrus looked back at Shepard's unconscious form.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say that she was smiling.

* * *

**Tali POV**

"Tali, can I talk to you for a sec?"

The quarian turned around and found herself face-to-face with Garrus. "Garrus! What can I do for you?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable. "I…I think I kind of lost control."

She folded her arms, inviting him to continue.

"You know what happened at the Citadel, right?"

"How could I not?" snorted Tali. "That Cerberus bitch was railing off about that from here to her office. I bet she's still complaining. What's on your mind?"

"She came up to talk to me afterwards," Garrus said. "And…I _hit_ her."

Everything came to a screeching halt then. "You _what?_"

He nodded grimly. "She's still in the med-bay. With a concussion. It was an accident, I didn't mean to, but—"

Tali cut her off with a single gloved hand. "Garrus, hold up. What the hell is going on?"

"I…"

But then he stopped, like he was suddenly lost for words. She scrutinized him before asking the million-dollar question.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because…"

Lost for words again.

Tali sighed. "Well, you can come back to talk whenever you're ready," she said airily. "Those engineers aren't much of company."

* * *

**Shepard POV**

Turian hands were unusually gentle.

Or maybe that was just Garrus.

A rather alien touch had roused her from her spell, and it took a few moments to realize that it wasn't Chakwas touching her.

_Garrus…_

But why was he even here? Why was _she _here? What was…oh.

The events of the last hour came rushing back at her and she almost winced. Her head still hurt, but his talons ghosting over her scars felt spookily good. Soothing, like her mother's touch…like Kaidan's touch.

What? Since when was she comparing Garrus to Kaidan?

It was probably the sedative.

Through the blanket of silence she could hear Chakwas shooing Garrus away and a pair of cold, professional hands replaced his warm, rough ones. She smiled, still thinking about him. She didn't quite know why.

* * *

**Kaidan POV**

Sure, he thought about her. He thought about her every day.

He still carried her holo around after two years.

The only difference was that now, broaching the subject of Emily Shepard didn't hurt like it used to.

She'd made her allegiances known in no uncertain terms that day on Horizon, and Kaidan wasn't quite in a forgiving mood—Cerberus was a disgrace to his species and the _real_ Shepard should've known that.

Besides, and this shocked him deeply—he didn't even _care_ anymore.

One woman was not worth the grief that Shepard had caused him. Whether she had meant it or not, she had very nearly killed him with her untimely departure. That was unforgivable.

_I'm better off without her_, he thought. _It's definitely time to move on_.

Even then, throwing the little holo into the water brought a little pang of loss.

* * *

**A/N: For the sake of this not turning into a damn soap opera, yes, Kaidan has moved on. **

**To compensate, however, I've got a Shenko fic up, **_**A Broken Frame**_**. Check out the follow-up, too—**_**Can You Save Me**_**, centralized mostly on the relationship between Tali'Zorah and Kal'Reegar. Why? Because I love that couple with a burning passion. Apologies to any Talimancers. **


	7. If I Gave You The Truth

If You Only Knew, Chapter 7

**Garrus POV**

He was pretty surprised when Shepard came to visit him again two days later.

"Shepard! Ah…how's the head?"

"It's fine," she replied airily. No wrath, no resentment, just friendly conversation. Garrus wondered whether or not to be worried.

"You remember what—"

"Yes, I do, Garrus. That's why I'm here."

A feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. "What—"

"I want the truth, Garrus," she said. "I'm going to let this—" she motioned to her temple—"slide. But you owe me an honest answer to one question, at least." Her green eyes drilled two holes in his skull to join the ones Chakwas had given him the other day.

_A small price to pay_, he thought. "Fine. Ask away."

"Why didn't you escape?"

"What?"

Shepard crossed her arms. "I'm not blind, Garrus, and I know you could've gotten out of that situation in Omega if you'd wanted. Why didn't you escape? Why did you insist on holding your ground?"

His jaw fell open as he gaped, completely lost for words. He hadn't counted on her finding his escape route, nor had he counted on her asking him about it. He'd expected something else. Like why he'd hit her, or something. Anything but this.

"You want the truth?"

She nodded.

"I…" He knew full well why he'd decided to throw his life away that day. Thinking about it later had been hard, and telling Shepard the truth would be even harder. But she was right. He owed her this, at the very least.

It took him a long time to find the words.

"Truth? Couldn't live without you. Tried, but I couldn't." Judging by the even look on her face, she'd expected something like that. "When the last man on my team died, I thought…this is it. This is the end. And I accepted it.

"Didn't want to be alive anymore."

There was silence as she digested this. She dropped her gaze, suddenly very interested in his feet. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he saw tears in her eyes. She blinked hard and nodded. She understood.

"That the truth, soldier?"

"Yeah."

She smiled at him, a gentle smile that sent tendrils of warmth creeping across his chest, and touched his face briefly.

"I'm glad you're here, Garrus."

And then she was gone.

Garrus sighed and turned back to the gun controls, feeling oddly liberated. It felt good to get that off his chest.

* * *

**Shepard POV**

As Shepard flipped distractedly through the dossiers the Illusive Man had given her, she thought about what Garrus had said.

"_Couldn't live without you. Tried, but I couldn't."_

_What the hell was that even supposed to _mean?

Had he really been that lost without her?

When she thought about the events of two years before, Shepard realized that Garrus had never really been in her attentions. It had always been Kaidan she'd been focusing on—that, and stopping Saren. There would have been no way for her to know if he'd ever harbored feelings for her.

_Great_, she thought. _Now I feel bad._

She thought about his reaction on Horizon. He didn't know it, but Shepard had noticed how he'd stiffened when she'd embraced Kaidan. It couldn't be jealousy…could it?

Could she even be the judge of that anymore?

_Don't be full of yourself, Emily_, she scolded herself. I_t's just wishful thinking._

Wishful thinking? Where the hell had _that_ come from?

Sighing, Emily buried her head in her hands.

Before she could help herself, a bitter laugh erupted from her lips, making her head hurt. But she couldn't stop chuckling.

_I wonder how Kaidan would react if he found out I had the hots for Garrus._

She went to bed that night, still chortling with pictures of Kaidan Alenko's outraged voice and face fresh in her mind.

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait for a short update. I kind of hit a wall. I just wanted to get this up there to satiate you lovely readers. Again, thanks a billion to everyone who reviewed, subscribed, and fave'd this story. It's nice to know someone out there is reading.**

**Cheers.**


	8. What Would You Do?

If You Only Knew, Chapter 8

* * *

**Shepard POV**

Jesus, this had to be just like _Lord of the Flies_.

As Shepard, Jacob, and Garrus made their way through the godforsaken stretch of jungle that was Aeia, she couldn't help but quietly marvel at the incredibly perverse nature of everything around them. The women, separated out from the men…the men, utterly feral and barely coherent…it almost made Shepard want to take a bite out of a leaf just to see what would happen.

_The plants here would make for lovely narcotics_, she thought bitterly.

She wondered if the same disturbing thoughts were running through Jacob's mind. It was his father they were searching for, after all. And by the looks of things, their reunion wasn't going to be smiles and hugs and talk of the good ol' days of Daddy 'n' me.

By the time they'd finally (painstakingly) taken out the damn YMIR mech guarding the entrance to Taylor's little hideaway, Shepard resolutely hated the man. It was one thing to drive his people nuts with toxic veggies, entirely another to be guarding one man with brainwashed guards and a heavy mech against people who couldn't even string together two words without spraining a lobe.

And there he was, blabbering on about how his crew had gone insane. She so wanted to hit the man, but she decided to take her time. She hoped the visor could take pictures—she wanted to see the look on his face when he realized that his son was part of the "rescue" party, and had seen his father's handiwork.

"Thank God you're here," Taylor said. "Sorry if the mechs scuffed your pads. I'll get you something nice when we get back to Alliance space—gotta have some back-pay coming."

"What about your crew, _Acting Captain_?" Jacob's eyes were mere slits, his arms crossed in a defensive and indignant pose.

"Total loss." He sighed in false resignation. "The toxic food drove them completely insane."

She cracked a mirthless smile as Jacob cut in again. "That the best you can do?"

Taylor's gaze flicked over to Jacob, and then to her. "Do you let all your people speak out like this…uh, who are you, anyway?"

"Doesn't matter. You've got some explaining to do."

"Of course…things were pretty chaotic after the crash. They didn't accept me as captain…and then they started eating the local food, and I couldn't control them. They propped me up in some kind of ritual behavior. Waiting for a chance to signal has been hell."

"Just stop! We know what you did to your crew—why let this go on for _ten years?_" That was Jacob, tense with anger. He stepped forward to confront his father.

"Who the hell are you?" Taylor demanded, eyes flashing with indignant fire.

"Taylor," Jacob spat. "Lieutenant Jacob Taylor."

There was a beat of horrible, sick silence as his expression turned from defensive to…horrified. He mouthed his son's name on his lips, eyes flicking from the operative back to Shepard, and then back to his son.

"Jacob…my Jacob?" he asked tentatively, as if saying it as softly as possible would make his son disappear. Dismay entered his eyes when Jacob nodded.

"Not who you expected, _captain?_" Shepard sneered. She felt no sympathy for this man.

"I was hoping not to have to explain this to him," he said. "Or anyone."

"There's nothing to explain," Jacob snapped. "You left your crew to die! Played with them like toys! What more is there to it?"

"You have to understand. This isn't me. The realities of command…they change you. I wasn't ready for that."

"Wasn't ready, wasn't _ready_…you sound like everyone I left the Alliance to get away from!"

Something changed in Taylor's eyes; shock, or maybe disappointment. "You…you _what?_"

His eyes flicked down to Jacob's uniform. "So this is how it is, now?" he said coldly. "_Cerberus?_"

"Better to serve under them than people like you," Jacob countered. "They never left their people to die."

A sudden movement caught Shepard's eye and she turned around. The hunters had come through the hole in Taylor's security, and they were approaching with murder in their eyes.

"Why did the males fight back, Taylor?" she asked, her eyes still on the ferals. "Why only the males?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. This planet has the strangest cycles…like nothing I've ever seen. The males adapted. They were aggressive before, but now…they want blood. And I aim to keep mine."

That must have been the last straw for Jacob, his father's incredible selfishness in the light of his crimes. He leveled the gun to his father's head. "You make Cerberus look like saints," he snarled. "What you did—I should vent your head. But you're not even worth taking the shot."

Jacob lowered his weapon and cast a resigned glance at Shepard. She gave Ronald Taylor an unforgiving look.

"I think we can save the ammo," she said cooly.

"Yeah," Jacob agreed. "But I'm not taking the shot."

He handed his father a pistol. The older Taylor took it and turned it over, giving them an incredulous look. They were already walking away.

"Half-charged? This won't stop them! You've seen them!"

His son turned to give his father one last, cold glance. "It's not for them…_Dad._"

"_Jacob!_"

Shepard glanced at her crewmate and pretended not to see the light in his eyes falter when they heard the gun go off behind them.

* * *

**Garrus POV**

Emily sat in her usual spot on the crate in the main battery, watching Garrus working quietly at the gun controls. His ice blue eyes were focused on his work, almost oblivious to the human sitting beside him. She scrutinized him for a while, but finally she could take the silence no longer.

"That was some crazy shit, huh?"

Garrus looked up from his work. "Huh? Yeah. It was."

He avoided her eyes, and Emily realized that it was probably because the scar from his blow was still on her temple. It was healing, but it was definitely visible, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Ever think of your father?" she asked.

"No," he said. "You?"

"Should I be?"

"It's just a question."

Shepard shrugged. "He was a selfish, lecherous man who didn't give a damn about me or my family," she said. "The batarians did _him_ some justice, at least. There isn't much else to think about."

"I'm sorry."

Emily shook her head. "I don't like to think of such things."

Finally, he met her gaze. "Is something on your mind?"

"Kind of," she said distractedly, feeling mesmerized by his eyes. "I…I was thinking about…our previous conversation."

Garrus thanked his lucky stars that he couldn't blush, but he nonetheless shifted uncomfortably. _Here we go. _Steeling himself, he nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"I…I don't know if it's healthy for you to throw your life away because of me," she said slowly.

"I already am," he pointed out. "Technically. What's your point?"

"I miss him," she burst out suddenly. "Kaidan, I mean. I don't know—he was so angry on Horizon, and I feel like he—"

She dropped her gaze, unable to stop the tears.

"I feel like he hates me."

The bitter taste of jealousy rose in his throat as he looked at her, biting back the sharp words that had appeared on the tip of his tongue. _Of course she was upset_, he chided himself. _Wouldn't you be?_

He tried to put himself in her shoes but realized he couldn't. _This is ridiculous_, he found himself thinking. _It's obvious that Kaidan doesn't care about her. Not like—_

_Not like I do._

He turned back to his work, pretending to look busy. He didn't meet her eyes. He couldn't, for fear that she'd see right through him. He felt her gaze burning into him for a while longer, and then she left, quietly.

Involuntarily, his thoughts drifted over to the events on Aeia. Maybe it had been his imagination, but he thought something had passed between her and Jacob that maybe he wasn't supposed to see. He felt jealous all over again, before reality kicked in and reminded him that Shepard's affections were probably never going to be directed at a turian.

Especially one like him.

Even with this in mind, Garrus could not let go of that little spark.

In all honesty, there wasn't anything else to hold on to.

* * *

**Shepard POV**

She could not stop thinking about what he had said.

"_I couldn't live without you, I guess."_

She turned Kaidan's holoframe over in her hands, her eyes drifting over the marketing information etched in fine print on the back. She turned it over again so that he was looking at her, in all his handsome glory.

She smiled. As handsome as ever.

But as she continued to study his face, Shepard realized that the feelings she'd had before were no longer there.

Instead, a certain turian lingered in her memory.

What the hell…

Feeling thoroughly disturbed, she turned Kaidan's picture facedown on her desk and reached for the bottle on the shelf.

* * *

**A/N: Oh HELL no am I making this easy for them. Granted, she's going to stop denying her feelings for him. Question is, when? **

**Now, for those of you who haven't gone and listened to If You Only Knew by Shinedown, here's a little excerpt for poetic measure. I think it absolutely narrates the relationship between Garrus & Shepard.**

_If you only knew how many times I counted all the words that went wrong  
If you only knew how I refused to let you go  
Even when you're gone  
I don't regret any days I spent, nights we shared, or letters I sent_

_It's 4:03, and I can't sleep  
Without you next to me, I toss and turn like the sea  
If I drown tonight  
Bring me back to life  
Breathe your breath in me  
The only thing that I still believe in is you  
If you only knew_

**Much love to everybody who's read in reviewed. I'd like to give a shoutout to ITestedGarrus'sReach, Siha Shap, and Ember Filled Mist for their regular, encouraging, and wonderful reviews! Love y'all! Trust me, this is going to be good. This is going to be very good.**

**Until next time…**

** BeGodlyBeLynn **


	9. Paper Walls

Chapter 9: Paper Walls (Come Crashing Down)

**Shepard POV**

"You don't have to do that, you know."

Shepard cast a sidelong glance at Miranda, who was watching her aimlessly stabbing her sandwich with a fork, an incredulous look on her face. The sandwich had been reduced to something akin to Thanksgiving stuffing, and she pushed it away with a resigned sigh.

The XO was unusually quiet today. She was gazing at the remains of what used to be a delicious ham-and-cheese sandwich with mustard, as if she was communicating with it in some telepathic way. Her blue eyes, usually cold and guarded, were quiet and thoughtful.

"Something on your mind, Miranda?"

She arched an eyebrow at Shepard. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Everything's peachy over here," Emily said. It was a lie. Nothing was peachy at the moment. There was too much on her mind.

Seeing Jacob's father, seeing the immoral monster he'd become, had dredged up unwelcome memories of Shepard's own father. Though the media liked to portray her as part of a loving family that the batarians had torn apart, this couldn't have been further from the truth.

Thinking of her family pushed Emily's train of thought to Garrus and idle musings on why he never spoke of his family. She vaguely remembered him saying something about his father being a strictly by-the-book, model turian. He wouldn't have approved of Garrus training to be a Spectre, she figured. Privately, Shepard wondered if everybody on the ship had daddy issues—Jacob, Garrus, Miranda, Grunt (if he counted), herself...hell, Tali probably fit in that category too.

She sighed and jerked herself out of her reverie, reaching for the plate to dump it in the sink. Her eyes were on the squishy, breaded mush—she wasn't quite paying attention to where she was going—which was why she walked headlong into Garrus and was rewarded with a bruising pain on her forehead as her head collided with his armor.

"Ow—ah, sorry," she managed, blushing furiously. Garrus had a bemused expression on his face, something that she found maddeningly adorable and made her blush even harder. She stepped back on an instinct, looking down to check that her corpse of a sandwich was still on the plate. The last thing she wanted to do was bend over.

Thankfully, the ground was clean, and Shepard weaved around Garrus to dump the plate in the sink. Still blushing, she cast one last glance at Garrus, who was staring after her with a rather confused expression on his face, and disappeared into the elevator.

Once there, Shepard let out a loud exhale and took a moment to collect her thoughts.

What the hell was _that?_

She couldn't possibly have been blushing _because of him_…could she?

Madness. Madness along the lines of "THIS IS SPARTA," that's what it was. Emily refused to believe that, of all the races of the galaxy, she'd started blushing for a _turian_. For Christ's sake, it was like—like—hell, she didn't know—Pygmalion and Galatea*?

What? Seriously? _What the fuck, Shepard._

That was seriously the best she could come up with? She dragged a hand over her face with a resigned sigh and wondered if she should be asking Miranda if she'd fiddled around with her brain.

Shepard was not a racist—in no way, shape, or form was she a racist. Most of her best friends were aliens—yet she couldn't quite fathom the thought of an interspecies relationship. Maybe it worked for others, but she knew it wouldn't work for her. Hell, same-species relationships were hard enough for her. Kaidan had been a sheer miracle in her love life.

The elevator opened, abruptly jolting Shepard from her thoughts. She looked up and realized she was in the CIC, so she shrugged and headed to the tech lab.

Mordin was busy at work, as usual. It seemed that the old salarian geezer never slept, and Shepard kind of felt bad for thinking of him like that, but goddamn was it true. To his credit, the man was a genius.

"Shepard. What can I do to help?" he asked, not looking up from his work. He never formed complete sentences, and Shepard knew from experience that it wasn't part of his many oddities as a salarian. She always wondered why he never bothered to speak in complete sentences, but she usually dismissed it. Not like it mattered, anyway.

She shrugged. Might as well pass the time with some conversation. "Have time to talk?"

"Actually, wanted to talk. Medical matters." Mordin peeled himself away from his work. "Aware that mission is dangerous. Different species react differently to stress—sexual activity normal for stress release in humans and turians—still, recommend caution."

There was a beat of silence as Shepard slowly took in just exactly what Mordin was saying to her.

_You've got to be shitting me…_

There was no stopping the blush from returning to her face. "It—oh…" she stammered, lost for words. "It's not—we're not—"

Mordin held up a hand and continued. "Of course. Hormones. Natural instinct to deny attraction, mask from others—still, advise against ingestion. Turian dextro-DNA toxic to humans. So don't ah…ingest."

"For Christ's sake, we aren't—this conversation is over," she blustered, stumbling backwards.

"Shepard, wait, wait!" Mordin called after her. "Can send you advice booklets, demonstration vids, turian erogenous zone overviews—"

She stumbled directly into something solid that wasn't quite a wall, nor was it a table. She whipped around. Speak of the devil.

_Garrus._

Groaning, she buried her face in her hands. This couldn't get any worse, could it?

"Mordin, fuck's sake—_shut up!_"

Mordin nodded like he understood. "Embarrassment understandable with partner present. Still, would like to continue this discussion at another time, Shepard!"

That was it. She was gone, heading for the elevator, laughing, blushing furiously, and cursing. Garrus followed her out.

"Spirits, Shepard—what the hell was that all about?"

"You don't want to know," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes. She was afraid that she'd either burst out laughing or try to kiss him if she did—one or the other, apparently.

"Shepard, if you want to—you know—talk about _that_, y'know—I'm around."

"What?" She met his eyes then. "You _joking?_" Too late, she realized there was no laughter behind them and her heart sank.

Something changed in his eyes. Suddenly crestfallen, he shrugged and forced a laugh. "Yeah, sure," he said. "That was pretty funny, though. _Salarians…_"

She laughed, too. "Heh. Well…see you later, I guess? I gotta get some shut-eye. I've had enough embarrassment for a day."

"Yeah," he murmured, but he sounded a little distracted. She turned towards the elevator, giving him one last look before the door closed.

As she lay in bed, fruitlessly waiting for sleep to come, Emily tried not to think about how he'd genuinely seemed disappointed when she'd laughed him off, or the gutwrenching guilt, or the fluttering in her chest that accompanied any thought of that turian rebel.

* * *

**A/N: Here's another song for y'all. This is **_**Paper Walls**_**, by Yellowcard.**

_Let's take what hurts, and write it all down  
On these paper walls, in this empty house  
And when our ink runs out, we'll burn it to the ground  
Here I am, still holdin' on to this  
Dream we had, won't let go of it  
Hear me now, you will never be alone  
Here I stand, won't turn back again  
Won't leave you, know how hard it's been  
Here me now, you will never be alone_

**I'm going to give another shoutout right here. As always, thanks a million to ItestedGarrus'sReach, Ember Filled Mist, Siha Shap, and Saetheri for the wonderful feedback. I love you all with a passion that burns hotter than Afghanistan in July. 8D Congratulations also to WriterRose, who has seen the light and appeal of the Shep/Garrus pairing! Welcome to the circle of love. (At least, that's what I call my caucus group in MUN.)**

***By the way, for those of you who have never heard of Pygmalion and Galatea, here's the short version. Pygmalion was a brilliant sculptor but a woman hater; nonetheless he found himself sculpting a woman, obsessing over the sculpture, and falling in love with it. He started getting it on with the statue (I know, CREEPY) and felt horribly depressed that she could not reciprocate his love. Aphrodite, the goddess of love, found this pretty freakin' hilarious until she started to feel kind of bad for him. So, she brought the woman to life—Galatea" warmed to his touch like wax melting in the sun" and they married and lived happily ever after. **

**Yes, it's a rather unheard of myth, but we're doing this big fat unit on Edith Hamilton's **_**Mythology**_**, so…just HAD to pop this in there. And hey, who doesn't love a few parallels between mythology and sci-fi? Still one big soap opera. Except one has space cannons.**

**Much love, **

**BegodlyBeLynn**


	10. Raise Your Voice and Make A Choice

Chapter 10: Raise Your Voice and Make a Choice

* * *

Pulling errands for the crew dominated her time for another few days.

Chasing an Ardat-Yakshi with Samara, a prodigal son with Thane, a Cerberus facility with Jack, a graybox with Kasumi, and an estranged salarian with Mordin hadn't given her much time to think about what had happened in the mess hall and the tech lab, which may have been a mercy—but one quickly outweighed by the unpleasant experiences of being shot at by a wide assortment of shady characters.

Finally, she'd returned from helping Miranda move her sister and was getting ready to go upstairs for some shut-eye when she heard Joker's voice on the comm.

"Hey, Commander, Jack and Miranda are in the middle of a…disagreement...? Can you go head it off before they tear out a bulkhead?"

She groaned internally. "I'm on it, Joker."

"Take pictures," he quipped. The comm went silent and Shepard changed course, walking briskly towards Miranda's office.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss just as a chair went sailing across her vision and hit the opposite wall.

"_Touch me and I will SMEAR the walls with you, bitch!"_

Jack was absolutely livid, her fists clenched and pulsing with biotics. Miranda was remarkably calm given the situation, standing off to the side, but there was no denying the tension in her eyes.

"Enough!" Emily snapped. "Both of you, _stand down!_"

Jack relented, shooting the commander a disdainful glance. "The cheerleader won't admit that what Cerberus did to me was _wrong_," she snarled.

Miranda could have said sorry, she could have admitted that her precious three-headed dog was just a cocksure bitch, but oh no—she just _had_ to push it. Shepard flinched when she struggled to defend her pet organization.

"It wasn't Cerberus. Not really. But clearly you were a mistake."

The cold venom behind the officer's voice could have dropped the temperature of the room twenty degrees, but Jack remained unfazed. She got in Miranda's face then, pointing an accusatory finger between her eyes, as if marking the bull's-eye for her next bullet.

"_Screw you!_ You got no idea what they put me through! Maybe it's time I showed you!"

That's when Shepard got really angry, shoving Jack's arm back down to her side and staring both women down. "My opinion is the one that matters," she said sharply. "Both of you will keep a deck apart at all times. And no more arguments—stow your shit for Collector time."

She lingered just long enough to watch Jack issue a half-assed threat before stalking out. She caught Miranda's eye, and she looked like she was about to say something, but Shepard didn't want to hear it—she just left.

Any notion for sleep was gone, replaced by the desperate need to talk to somebody who wasn't crazy, pouting, or grieving. Naturally, she ended up in the main battery.

"Rough day?" Garrus asked sympathetically.

"You could say that," Shepard grumbled. "I'd say rough _week._"

"I could hear Miranda and Jack from over here," he said. "Glad you broke it off before someone chucked someone else out the window."

She laughed gently, propping an elbow up on the railing lining the controls. She looked into his eyes and that warm feeling came back, the one that sent butterflies to her stomach and a blush to her face. She couldn't help but smile.

"What?" he asked curiously.

She shrugged. "Nothin'," she said. "Just…relieved, I guess. Glad that's all over."

"It's never over," Garrus said. "Just watch—pretty soon everybody else and their mother is going to be asking you for help."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Hah. Saving the galaxy is never enough, I suppose."

Garrus shrugged his broad shoulders. "You know, this is pretty different from how a turian ship prepares for high-risk missions."

"You're not used to it?" she asked, mystified. "Come on—remember Saren and Ilos and Sovereign and all that jazz?"

Garrus frowned—evidently that hadn't translated well, but he got the idea nonetheless. "Yeah, sure, but that was pretty quick—we flew in, blew up some geth, and saved the galaxy. Now we've got Cerberus and that AI and the Illusive Man telling us what's ahead. I think I prefer blind optimism."

"How do turians prepare for high-risk missions, then?"

His eyes clouded over with memories in his past, memories from a different life. "With violence, usually. Our officers run us tight, but they know us well, and they know we need to blow off steam. Combat sims, weight lifting, even full-contact sparring. Almost anything to keep us focused, really."

"Full-contact sparring?" Shepard asked, alarmed.

They both knew she didn't give a damn about full-contact sparring. She was trying her utmost to avoid the subject she knew Garrus desperately wanted to bring up. She was a little ashamed, but there it was. She had enough on her plate without having to worry about…some love affair or whatever her conflicted hormones were trying to tell her.

But Garrus humored her, and went into detail about the sparring. It was not until he started talking about some other female turian that she started paying attention.

"She suggested we settle it in the ring."

Despite herself, Emily's lips curled up into a little smile. "I suppose you took her down gently?"

He shook his head, smiling a little himself at the memory. "No, we were the two best hand-to-hand specialists on the ship—I had reach, but she had flexibility. It was brutal. Nine rounds later the judge called it a tie…there were a lot of unhappy betters in the ring that day.

"We, ah…we ended up having a tiebreaker in her quarters. I had reach, but she had flexibility," he said a little awkwardly, shrugging his broad shoulders. "More than one way to work off stress, I suppose."

There was a beat of silence as Shepard took this in. Was she hearing this? He was telling her about a one-night stand he'd had with some hot turian bombshell while prepping for a suicide mission? There might be hope for the team yet, she thought dryly. But aside from that, aside from her amusement was jealousy burning in her gut. Before she could stop it the questions rushed to the forefront of her mind, questions she dared not ask for fear of exposure. _Who was she? How long ago was this? Are you still in contact? Was she good? _

She shook her head, imagining herself asking those questions and picturing his response. Just goddamn brilliant.

Nobody spoke for a while, avoiding each other's eyes. Both knew the innuendo his words carried, both knew exactly why he'd brought up that particular memory, and they both knew how they felt for each other. Well, one of them did.

Shepard got up. "Thanks for the talk, Garrus. I gotta fly."

She left, resisiting the overpowering urge to break into a mad sprint towards the elevator. As soon as the doors shut, she let out a long sigh.

It really felt like her mouth had a mind of its own, really. In all honesty, she shouldn't have pushed it. she still had Kaidan to think about, not to mention the mission…

_Kaidan_.

It irritated her to think about him now. He had shown a lack of understanding that Garrus could never display on Horizon, he had walked away when Garrus always had her back, and she still didn't quite know why she insisted on comparing Garrus to Kaidan—

"You should make a decision, you know."

Shepard whipped around to see Kasumi Goto remove her cloak and glance to the side—had she been standing next to her the whole time? Damn.

"What do you mean?"

Kasumi gave the commander a withering look and reached across her to pull the manual override on the elevator. It jolted to a halt and the lights went dark. Shepard crossed her arms and eyeballed her elevator buddy, rather cross.

"Okay, you got my attention. What the hell do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean," the thief said sharply. "Make a decision about Garrus. Either take this chance and go after everything you ever wanted, or wait for him to move on. He's not going to take the first step, and he's not going to wait forever."

"This conversation is over," Emily snapped, reaching for the little button on the control panel. Kasumi slapped her hand away.

"No. You're going to hear me out, Shepard." Her hot gaze burned into Shepard's skull and she relented, looking her friend in the face.

"Enough with the games, enough with the denial, and enough with the — whatever it is. Stop denying that he's what you really want. I can see it in everything you do. You love him—so why are you trying to avoid it?"

"I—" She glared furiously at Kasumi, unable to find words. Finally, she burst out:

"I don't want to hurt him, okay?"

"It's not even that," countered Kasumi. "You don't want to go out and get what you want because death's staring you in the face. Well, take it from me—you'd better take the chance you're given, because sooner or later he's going to end up dead and you're going to be standing over his coffin wishing you'd told him when you still could. He's everything you ever wanted, I see it in the way you look at him, in the way you talk to him, and in the way you head up to the main battery every other goddamn day. He loves you, and it's time you decided if you do, too. Just don't take too long."

"Screw you," Emily muttered. She disabled the override and stalked out on her floor, disappearing into the captain's cabin without a second glance.

* * *

**A/N: Intervention time! Soooo…does Shepard take the Asian thief's advice (which EVERYONE should) or does she continue to deny her feelings for Garrus? Take a wild guess. You've got a 33.33% chance of getting it right. :p**

**I got my ass kicked at Edison today, so needless to say I'm a little down with a lovely topping of bruised ego. :( Nothing some video games and sleep can't cure, though. **_**Can You Save Me**_** chapters are still in the works, but it's coming strong, and so is this. Viva the three day weekend! **


	11. When You're Through Thinking, Say Yes

Chapter 11: When You're Through Thinking, Say Yes

* * *

Alone in her cabin with nothing but a few fish and a hamster for company, Shepard considered what Kasumi had said, and what she should have said.

"_What the hell do you mean, 'love?' Stow that shit before I toss you out an airlock!"_

She could only imagine Kasumi's response and was suddenly glad that she'd left with a simple "screw you" in the way of last words.

"_He loves you, and it's about time you decided if you do too."_

_Damn._

Had it really been that _obvious?_

_Of course _she was in the main battery all the time, she thought. _It's not like anyone else on this ship inspires _confidence.

The other part of her disagreed.

"Don't deny it," she said aloud. "Why can't you admit that—"

She abruptly fell silent.

_God dammit._

So it wasn't in her head after all.

She really was going crazy.

Was she?

When she'd first seen Garrus on Omega, she'd known something had changed in the way she felt about him—she just never figured out what until Kaidan had turned his back on her on Horizon. But still, she had refused to acknowledge it. Dealing with the aftermath of Sidonis' departure had been…jarring, to say the least. Especially the moment where he'd stood caressing her face in the medbay.

Kasumi was right.

_Can I really keep denying that something is there? _

Of course the answer was no.

The only question left was what the hell she could do about it.

Sighing, she got up and headed for the door. She had some explaining to do.

* * *

**Garrus POV**

The calibrations were doing nothing for his nerves, or his concentration, or his hormones.

Sighing in frustration, Garrus turned away from the controls and sat down heavily on a crate, staring at the floor with his elbows on his knees.

There was a huge difference between hitting the commander and hitting _on_ the commander, and although he had done both, he was pretty sure his most recent conversation with her fell into the category of the latter. If this were a turian ship, the incident would be dismissed with a reprimand, but on a human ship…

The Normandy wasn't an Alliance ship and he wasn't human, but he still worried that his ass would get tossed out an airlock or something. (To the best of his knowledge, Cerberus couldn't court-martial people.) He remembered how much Shepard and Kaidan had had to sneak around to avoid discovery back in the old days, and how much fraternization was frowned upon among their species.

Of course, it was only a peripheral issue. Garrus didn't so much about the regs as he did about what Shepard may or may not have taken away from their conversation.

He'd stopped lying to himself a while ago. He wanted more than friendship from Emily. And as much as the thought shocked him at first, he was able to affirm the fact that he did not have some sort of cross-species fetish. It was just…

_Her._

All of her.

There was just something about Emily Shepard that Garrus found maddeningly alluring—perhaps it was her drive, or maybe the way in which she led. Maybe it was the way she was so unlike Saren, who had been so intent on disgracing his species, and instead struggled to get them in the good graces of the galaxy. She'd managed to put her differences behind her when she'd saved the Council, forsaking personal feuds for the collective good of everyone else.

Maybe it was the way she'd given him a chance, _him_, of all people, just when he was ready to go rogue…or give up.

Hell, maybe it was just those green eyes.

Despite himself Garrus smiled, and his mind wandered back to the good ol' days of chasing Saren across the galaxy. There had been no feelings then, he was sure. It was only until she died that he realized how much she meant to him.

That was a slap in the face. It was as if the spirits were taunting him by throwing this realization at him when it was too late for him to tell her. But then her return had been like a dream come true, but for all those encounters nothing had come of his feelings for her, except for confusion and resentment.

_This can't go on forever_, he thought. _I have to tell her how I feel._

_I can deal with the consequences later._

With this in mind, he got up and left the battery.

* * *

He was four paces away from the elevator when the doors slid open to reveal—speak of the devil—Shepard. Her green eyes registered him and her eyes widened in surprise, but she smiled as if he was just the person she was looking for. A flush crept up her face and Garrus wondered if he really had that effect on her. For a moment he was speechless, gaping, before he picked his jaw off the ground and pulled himself together.

"I think I need to tell you something," they said in unison. There was a beat of awkward silence as they stared at each other, unsure of whether to laugh or run away.

"You first," Garrus said deviously. He was trying his best to contain his laughter.

"No, you first."

"I asked first."

She opened her mouth and abruptly closed it, as if she had forgotten how to speak. The awkwardness in the air could have been cut with a butter knife. Suddenly he was extremely glad that turians couldn't blush.

Shepard was looking him up and down, her eyes sweeping over his tall form.

"I…I don't know how to put this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Try, then."

She continued to look blankly at him and Garrus could literally see the wheels in her head turning madly until finally, she shrugged and hugged him.

"I do love you," she murmured against his chest.

He was completely shell-shocked. This was the last thing he'd been expecting, but he found himself returning the hug.

A few yards away, Kasumi was watching, silently congratulating herself on a job well done.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! Sorry for the late update. I had a horrible case of writer's block. It's over now, and I'm back. :D I figured it's about time Shepard got off the denial train and in Garrus's arms. It's still not going to be easy, though. I guarantee it.**

**As always, a big fat shoutout for ITestedGarrussReach, Siha Shap, Saetheri, and Ember Filled Mist. Seriously, you guys rock. I dig the feedback and the support. Keep on trucking! :p (see Made Nightwing's fabulous work for that reference.)**

**That about wraps it up. New chapters are in the works. Thanks so much for everyone who's read and reviewed—I never expected this story to take off like it did! You all rock. If you're reading this, you ROCK. Much love, everyone!**

**Well. Enough of my gabbing.**

**-Lynn**


	12. Daddy, Won't You Please Come Home?

Chapter 12: Daddy, Won't You Please Come Home?

**Shepard POV**

"Father!"

Shepard turned around just in time to see Tali run over to the dead quarian and fall to her knees, desperately turning it over.

"No…no…you always had a plan. Masked life signs, or an onboard stasis system, maybe! You…"

She broke off, her words becoming incoherent as she shook her father, trying to wrest any signs of life out of him. But there was none, and they all knew it.

"They're wrong," she sobbed. "You wouldn't just die like this. You wouldn't just leave me to clean up your mess!"

Shepard was rooted to the spot, staring down at Rael'Zorah's dead body. She didn't know what she was feeling right then, but it wasn't sadness. It was all the same, she thought. A loving daughter in a loveless family, trying desperately to prove herself to someone who wasn't watching…and now, the Admiral had died, leaving his only daughter to the charges pushed upon her by the Admiralty Board. She was right. Daddy issues ran rampant on the Normandy.

"He was trying to help you, Tali…in the only way he knew how. He didn't want to leave you."

But even as she said the words, she knew they were hollow, especially when the quarian shook her head.

"Of course he did. Every time he went off to battle…every time he sent me away…it was always about what he wanted."

A lump rose in Shepard's throat and she forced it down as Tali continued.

"All I wanted was a father who would take the sick leave and let me see his face without the mask. Instead…" Her voice hardened. "I got orders. And a panel of admirals who think I am a traitor. These are my father's gifts to me!"

Shepard could offer no words of comfort. She could only watch as Tali played back Rael'Zorah's last words to her—orders, orders, and more orders.

She soon came to the conclusion that nobody was fit to father a child, not in a thousand lifetimes.

The galaxy just couldn't get enough of the goddamn geth, she thought bitterly. Not only had the Alarei been swarming with the things—they had been assembled and activated on the orders of Rael'Zorah himself. By some miracle, she, Tali, and Garrus had emerged from the overrun ship no worse for wear. Much of her person was unscathed…except for her patience. Speaking with the Admirals had confirmed what she'd suspected all along—that the entire trial was simply a ploy to decide on the quarians' future with the geth. She had no patience for politics as it was, but the nonchalant way in which they'd expressed their views—with Tali in earshot—made Shepard want to take off her mask and puke. And then blow herself up.

Now they found themselves jogging back to the trial, barely making out the muted voices that wanted to declare Tali dead. They arrived just as Shala'Raan was about to deliver the final judgment.

"Sorry we're late," sneered Tali.

Emily was fuming at this point. She stormed up to the podium, murder in her heart.

"You didn't waste any time declaring us dead," she snapped. "Go get your ship."

It was fun watching the Admirals stumble over that. Koris was speechless, probably out of rage. Xen had no reaction. Shala shifted uncomfortably. Han'Gerrel was the only one who spoke.

"We…apologize, Shepard. Your success in taking back the Alarei was…well, very unexpected."

"But also very welcome," Shala chipped in. _Just in time, too_, Shepard thought. Goddamn, but politicians pissed her off.

"Did you find anything on the Alarei that could clarify what happened there?" That was Han'Gerrel, his voice laced with uncertainty and anticipation.

There was silence. Shepard turned and her eyes met Tali's. Even behind the mask, she could see the pleading. _Don't._

She thought back to the Alarei, when they stood at the main hub listening to the recording.

_"Leave Tali out of this," Rael'Zorah snapped to his crewmates. "We're too close. Reassemble new geth with what we have. I don't want Tali to suffer any political blowback if this goes wrong."_

True, the Admiral had wanted to keep Tali safe from the wrath of the Admiralty board. True, Rael'Zorah probably loved his daughter as much as Shala'Raan said he had. True, he had been willing to sacrifice family to be able to give his daughter a house on the homeworld…

But somehow, not bringing Rael'Zorah's crimes to light didn't seem right to Shepard. It would be akin to letting her own father back into her room, embracing him, and telling him everything was going to be okay, just like her sister had always done. For her, keeping Tali's father's doings in the dark felt…alien.

The other side of her disagreed. _You would disgrace her father's name and destroy Tali's reputation as a trustworthy Migrant Fleet quarian simply for a slap in the face to bad fathers everywhere. He wanted the good for his people…including Tali._

God dammit.

Even in light of this kind of evidence…Shepard thought of how Tali had begged her to wipe the data off her omni-tool, said that she'd rather be exiled than…this.

And so she did what she always did best.

"Tali's achievements are the only evidence you should need," she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at the admirals. "You're wasting our time. Come on, Tali. We're leaving."

"What?" Shala's voice pierced the outcry of protest coming from the watching quarians.

"This is a formal proceeding!" protested Zaal'Koris. "You can't just—"

Shepard whipped around, her eyes alight with all the fury of a woman scorned and more. "Wrong, Admiral! This is a sham! You're trying to build sympathy for the geth to stave off the war effort! And you—" she pointed an accusatory finger at Han'Gerrel— "you're trying to get all the messy experiments covered up so you can throw the fleet at the geth!"

She paused, watching the two admirals stumble over themselves in an effort to deny these claims with enormous satisfaction. Then she met Shala'Raan's eyes. The elder quarian was looking around desperately, lost for words, but Shepard had no sympathy for her.

"Do whatever you want with your toy ships. But keep my crew out of your political bullshit. We have no new evidence," Shepard finished with deadly finality. "You can accept our word, or exile the woman who saved the Citadel from the geth.

"It's your fucking call, Admirals."

The crowd fell silent, watching apprehensively for the admirals' reaction. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Nobody even seemed to breathe.

The Admiralty board was quite frozen, staring numbly at the human standing next to Tali. Han'Gerrel looked like he was in shock. Zaal'Koris looked like he was constipated. Shala'Raan looked ill, and only Daro'Xen had a broad smirk across her face, visible through the helmet. She was the first to bring up her omni-tool and submit her judgment. Han'Gerrel followed, and after a few more moments of looking constipated, Koris followed.

Silence prevailed for the next few minutes. Finally, Shala'Raan managed to find her tongue.

"Tali'Zorah, in light of your history of service, we find insufficient evidence to, ah, convict. You are cleared of all charges."

Shepard performed a fistpump of victory, a smug look spreading across her face. She didn't even bother to hide it—her contempt for the admirals was palpable. Tali sighed in relief, giving her captain a grateful look. Garrus sat in the back, chuckling quietly. Typical Shepard, to shout down the politicians and get results anyway.

"Captain Shepard," Raan continued, "Please accept these gifts as appreciation for representing one of our people."

"Thanks, but I represented one of my own crewmates," Shepard replied. "Are we done here? Because I've got a galaxy to save."

This time, nobody made a move to stop her when Shepard, Tali, and Garrus turned and left the courtroom.

* * *

**Garrus POV**

"I would have done it, you know."

Emily's voice broke the silence. Tali and Garrus looked up in surprise as the commander raised her head.

"I would have exposed your father without a second thought. Just so we're clear."

"Shepard!" cried Tali, shocked. "How could you—"

"I have no sympathy for people like your father." She cut the quarian off abruptly as she continued. "You didn't deserve to get the hot seat because of him—he deserved to get his name destroyed."

"No, he didn't," Tali said hotly. "And as for me—life isn't about getting what you deserve."

"You're right," she said. "It's about giving people what they deserve."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Emily was silent.

* * *

A few hours later, Garrus came up to Shepard's quarters to find her throwing darts at something on the wall. Frowning, he stepped inside and saw that it was a picture of someone he didn't recognize.

"Shepard," he said softly. She jumped, brandishing a dart, but relaxed when she saw him.

"Garrus!" she exclaimed. "Don't sneak up on me like that—what do you—I mean, what's up?"

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I've never seen you like this before, and I'm worried."

Her shoulders slumped and she sat down on the bed resignedly. "Fuck."

His eyes flicked to the picture. "Who's that?"

"My dad."

He sat down next to her. "I'm getting the feeling that you've got some sort of vendetta against fathers," he said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the only other time you dealt the harsh cards was when you were dealing with Jacob's father. Am I missing something here?"

She turned away. "Yeah. You are."

"Care to explain?"

Emily avoided his eyes, suddenly very interested in a dead fish floating around in the tank. It was a long time before she spoke.

"If you ever met my dad on the street, you would've thought him the most decent man," she began. "So polite, so…charming…so witty and smart. And I guess he was, to my mom…otherwise he wouldn't have married her."

She laughed bitterly. "But at home…oh, boy, he was a different man," she said. "He didn't hit my mother as much as he hit us, my brother and me. Sometimes, especially when a deal went bad or something, he'd come home, rough us up, and then go next door and fuck the neighbor.

"My mom wasn't going to do jack shit about it, and the neighbors didn't care," she continued. "Don't be fooled, Garrus. Colonist humans are as big of assholes as those Earth schmucks. Even more so, because they're all high on the smell of their own piss. 'Taking the frontier for humanity,' they said. Oh, they all thought they were a bunch of pioneers for the collective good of everyone."

She caught his eye. "Don't give me any of that Alliance propaganda," she said sharply. "I didn't grow up in a loving family and I sure as hell didn't love them. Only one I ever loved was Art. I didn't pick up my weapons for any damn colonists that day on Elysium. I sent those batarians to hell because they killed my baby brother and I made them pay. Every…last…one."

Garrus was silent for a long time, taking this in. He'd never known this about her, but if it was true…

"Where does this leave me, then?" he asked. The question was out of his mouth before he realized it.

She turned and met his gaze in full, an in her eyes there was a steely determination. "You're still my closest friend and the only man I love in this world," she said. "Is that good enough for you?"

He hesitated. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he didn't know how…so he just settled for one word.

"Yes," he said at length, and he meant it. "That's all I need."

She smiled and reached out to him, but even she could not hide the tears in her eyes as she embraced him. "Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

**A/N: I feel so bad for doing this to you guys. Alas, there's no cure for writer's block except for inspiration, but the plotbunnies hit me harder than my first Big Daddy battle, so I just had to get this up. Well, now that we know about Shepard's daddy issues…(Usually this is where I inject some sort of witty prophetic statement but I'm blanking right about now.) For those of you Mass Vexations readers, yes, Art is a ref to Herr Wozzeck's character in his MV series. Do head over to his profile and read it. If Night of the Living Dead is the classic zombie movie, then Mass Vexations is the classic ME Self-Insert. :p**

**Super sorry for those who were expecting a Valentine's Day special. It didn't quite go as planned and I ended up having to scrap the project... :( In any case, new chapters are in the works. Let's hear it for some Shakarian.**


	13. The Things We Never Knew

13: The Things We Never Knew

Arthur hadn't thought about Mindoir in a long, long time.

There was no reason to do so. His entire family was dead, save for his older sister—but the announcement of Commander Shepard's being killed in action put an end to that almost three years ago. Now, he had taken the opportunity to start over with a clean slate.

Arthur Shepard had become Arthur McMahon almost overnight with a hefty amount of paperwork and almost five thousand credits. Fade had been kind enough to grant him a discount, because of his family. Now he was living on the Citadel and nobody was the wiser as to his identity. Even after rumors of Emily Shepard's survival, he was glad that he had a new face.

When Commander Emily Shepard first surfaced as the first human Spectre, McMahon had not dreamed that this woman could be the older sister he'd cherished and lost on Mindoir. But some due digging and manipulation of contacts had revealed that yes, she was indeed his sister. To this information, he had scowled. So she had survived.

He thought back to the last time he thought he'd seen her alive.

* * *

_"Em, wait up!"_

_The teenage Emily looked back, running over to her brother, who had tripped over another body. He was crying at this point, almost beside himself. She lifted him up and threw him over her shoulder and kept on running, away from the buildings and the ship and all the dead people and all the screaming. She was carrying her brother away from the bad people._

_Her pace slowed, after a fashion, and she put him down, breathing heavily._

_"Can't…run…anymore," she gasped. "I think we can take a breather."_

_Art nodded mutely, eyes wide and scared. The tears had dried long ago; now he was too tired to cry. He could only sit in the grass and watch the colony burn. The agonized screams of the other colonists were carried on the wind, as well as the smell of scorched flesh. His eyes watered._

_Emily lay on her back in the grass, staring up at the sky. Tears were leaking out of her eyes. _

_Finally, her eyes lit on something in the sky. _

_"Look," she said excitedly. "It's a ship! An Alliance ship!"_

_"Where?" demanded Art, looking around wildly. _

_"There," she said, pointing at the sky._

_Sure enough, one Alliance ship, then two, then three, descended from the sky and landed in various locations. By now Emily was on her feet, seeking them out._

_"That one seems closest," she whispered. "I'll run there and get help."_

_"What, why can't I come?" asked Art plaintively, looking up at his sister. He didn't want to be alone. Not with the ghosts of what had happened. _

_"What if they aren't Alliance, but batarians commandeering a ship?" Emily shook her head. Looking around, she found a shack with a small pile of crates stacked up next to the door. "Here, hide in here," she said, forcing the door open. "If they're Alliance, I'll come back to get you. If they're not…and I don't come back…don't come after me."_

_Art nodded. His big sister would come back for him. She always did._

_He lost track of time cowering in that shack, looking out the window for any signs of movement. He didn't know how long his sister had been gone, but he knew that she'd be back with Alliance people and then they could be safe. Maybe they could get adopted by an Alliance soldier and then grow up a ship. Maybe then he could get a violin._

_He smiled happily, thinking of the possibilities. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear the door open._

_At first he looked up hopefully, expecting to see his sister, but it was two batarians forcing a terrified colonist through the door. In a panic, Art scrambled into a closet and shut the door, hiding amongst the clothes._

_Through the crack in the door, he saw everything._

_His sister never came back._

_By the time the batarians had left with their now-dead charge in tow, the sun was rising again, and Art was on the verge of passing out with thirst. He was huddled in a corner of the closet, shaking with fear, when they finally found him._

_An Alliance soldier took off his helmet and crouched in front of the boy, his face gentle. He offered a hand out._

_"Hey, buddy," he said gently. "We're gonna get you out."_

_All he could do was nod. They were humans, not batarians. And they were wearing Alliance armor. That was enough for him. _

_"Where's my sister?" he asked them. "Where's Emily?"_

_"Emily?" The soldier frowned. "You're the only survivor we've found."_

_He dropped his gaze. It was only now that he started crying, the sobs wracking his little body and tears falling down his face. Emily was dead. She must have been. She would have found the Alliance. She wouldn't have let her down. She loved him. _

_And now she was gone. Art cried his heart out that day for Emily Shepard, the only person who'd ever given a shit about him._

_But scars heal, people move on, and life continues on its steady course no matter how much you try to stop it. Art did end up getting adopted by an Alliance family, and he got his violin. But no matter how many sonatas he played, no matter how many concerts he attended, he never forgot Mindoir. He never forgot his sister._

Art had been eleven when the batarians attacked his colony. Now he was twenty-eight, and his life was very different from that of his sister.

At first, when he'd first heard the news, he'd considered getting into contact with Emily and trying to reconnect. But he was long past the fateful day at Mindoir, and now there was only bitterness. If Emily was alive, that meant that she had found the Alliance…and then she hadn't come back for him.

Just like everyone else in his life, she had let him down.

* * *

Alchera was a cold planet.

That was the first thought that struck her as Shepard walked along the snow-covered planet, her eyes roving around the first Normandy's final resting place.

The armor shielded her body from the biting cold, but not her heart. Seeing the wreck of her former ship was like dying all over again, except worse because the scars had been so close to healing.

Despite Miranda's best efforts, Shepard still retained the memory of dying. She knew what it was like to struggle in the vacuum of space with the holes in your hardsuit, struggling for breath even as the very air was sucked out of your lungs. She remembered her blood boiling in her veins even as it froze, and the excruciating feeling of her organs contracting and expanding, fighting against each other, and finally, she remembered exactly what it felt like when the vacuum took over and she died.

Trying to shake the thoughts from her head, she looked around the wreck. A glimmer of metal caught her eye and she approached it, curious. Something small was partially buried in the snow. Shepard bent down and closed her fingers around it, pulling it out to reveal a pair of dog tags.

She swallowed. Admiral Hackett had mentioned that the identities of her fallen crewmates had likely gone down with the ship. She turned them over and read them, a lump forming in her throat as she read.

LOWE  
HELEN M.  
423-53410  
AB POS  
CATHOLIC

With a pang, Emily realized that the name was unfamiliar to her. She hadn't even gotten to know her own crew all that well. She had been busy hunting Saren and the geth, but still. She felt bad.

Slipping the dog tags on her arm, she kept walking, a long, thorough sweep that she knew would take her hours upon hours and even then she might not find them all. Hackett had said there were likely 20 dog tags to find. Twenty it was, then.

The Mako was tipped on its side, three of its wheels buried in snow. Though it seemed damaged on the exterior, Shepard had no intention of taking it back to the SR-2. The memories of frantically struggling with the controls of the infantry vehicle as her squadmates cowered in terror brought a sad smile to her face. It was odd to think that she'd never go back to those days, the good ol' days in her book. Well, perhaps not.

Garrus and Tali had offered to accompany her on the trip, but Shepard had refused. She, alone, had been the captain of the SSV Normandy. This walk was hers to take, and hers alone. She would not have anyone else shoulder her burden.

An hour later, there were twelve dog tags dangling off her arm and Shepard was sweating; the Alchera sun was high in the sky now. Looking up, her eyes lit on the ruins of the mess hall. Placing a hand on the ruined table, she inexorably thought of Ashley. Before she could help it, tears sprang to her eyes.

Ashley had devoted her entire life to the Alliance, even before Virmire. And what had she gotten in return? She had been pushed aside, flushed into the shadows because of a mistake her grandfather had made so long ago. She had been held back from reaching her full potential, and she had paid for it with her life. There would never be another person like Ash, she knew. All that wit, personality, potential…gone. And it was all because of Saren.

But even as she thought this, Shepard knew that the only person to blame for Ash's untimely demise was herself. She had broken the rules of fraternization and her judgment had become biased, choosing her lover over her comrade. She had made the decision that had condemned Ash to the geth and the nuclear explosion. It was she, alone, who had killed one of her only friends. Almost involuntarily, a sob escaped her lips. And before she could help it, she found herself wishing she'd left Kaidan for dead instead of Ashley. Horrified at her thinking, she began to cry in earnest, fists clenched on the mess table. God dammit. She should not have come.

It wasn't long before Shepard heard new footsteps on the snow, crunching quietly towards her. She did not turn. If this intruder on her grief meant her harm, so be it. Collectors be damned, she really did feel like dying right now. A three-fingered hand rested on her shoulder and she turned and before she knew it Emily was crying on Garrus's chest, the tears never escaping the confines of her helmet but her sobs wracked her body and he held her until she was out of tears. He touched his nose to her forehead sadly.

"You didn't have to come here, you know," he said quietly. "If you want, we can leave."

She shook her head. "No," Shepard said, her voice hoarse from disuse. "There's something I have to do first."

Garrus followed her back onto the snow-covered plain where the ruins of the Normandy lay, and they spent the rest of their time looking for the missing dog tags.

"Shepard, look what I found."

The search was almost complete when Garrus piped up, having found something behind the remains of the CIC. Shepard followed his gaze and saw that he was holding something round in his hands. Curious, she approached him.

It was her old N7 helmet, relatively undamaged and mostly intact in Garrus's hands.

"Your old helmet," he said quietly. "Do you want it?"

She took the helmet from him wordlessly, absentmindedly walking away from him as she did so. He followed her, and soon they were standing a few yards away from the cliff overlooking a wide, icy canyon.

Very suddenly, she dropped the helmet. In the same motion, she swung back her foot and kicked it away, over the cliff and down into the icy chasm yawning before them. A few seconds passed before they heard the soft clatter of something landing, far down and far away. Finally, she spoke.

"I don't want that. I had it when I died and I don't want it now."

He was shocked, but Garrus realized that he also understood. The helmet was a token of her time hunting Saren, but it was also a token of her death experience in the atmosphere of frosty Alchera. He wouldn't want to have it, either.

She looked at her hand and quietly counted the dog tags. There were nineteen.

"Do we have them all?" Garrus asked, following her gaze.

"Yes," she lied. "Let's get out of here. I've had enough of this planet."

He nodded. He offered her hand and she took it, lacing her five fingers with his three. They returned to the shuttle together. Neither one spoke. There were no words.

* * *

**A/N: Late update, I know. Copious apologies. :-\ Better remember the name Arthur McMahon, because he's going to be significant in the plot later on. Anyhow, that's chapter 13.**

**A shout-out to my usual: ITestedGarrussReach, Siha Shap, Sathaeri (sorry for misspelling your name in previous chapters, meh), and Ember Filled Mist. Am I missing anyone? I don't think so. If I did, just know that you have honorable mention in my heart. 3 :p **

**Until next time…**


	14. Ghosts

"_Individual commitment to a group effort – that is what makes a team work, a company work, a society work, a civilization work." –Vince Lombardi_

14: Ghosts

The soft, metallic rustle of dog tags became the only sound in the room as Shepard pored over every one, committing each name to memory. They slipped through her fingers and fell onto the small pile on her desk. As she passed over each one, she silently mouthed the name etched in the metal.

Survivor's guilt overwhelmed her. Emily felt so wretched; it was like all the hurt from Kaidan's betrayal was hitting her in the face again. She could not help but think, _I survived and they didn't._

She hadn't even survived—Shepard had died just like the rest of them, but someone had deemed that she was more important. But that wasn't true. She was no more important than anyone else whose dogtag she held now.

Early in her career, Shepard had met an asari pilot who said that the only people that could not accept that bad things happened to good people were humans, and she supposed that was true. Even now, it was hard to wrap her head around what had been done for her brother to deserve what he'd gotten at Mindoir…but that was another story. For now, she just stared at the dog tags, her gaze sweeping over the names. There were still nineteen of them, but she had no intention of returning to find the last one. It felt…_final_, as if having only nineteen meant that the SR-1 Normandy's destruction was only part of some sort of dream made vaguely into reality. Having all twenty of the dog tags felt like…she didn't know what it felt like. It was like finding all twenty dog tags would confirm the twisted nightmare that she knew was real all along.

She did not hear the door open behind her, but she felt the tags being gently tugged out of her hands. Shepard looked around without looking, knowing that there was only one person on the ship who would check on her at a time like this.

"Shepard." Garrus's voice was gentle. "You should stop."

She avoided his eyes. She didn't want him to see her like this. She felt vulnerable. She felt exposed. She would never admit it, but she wasn't sure if she trusted him. Not entirely. She trusted him with her life on the battlefield, and (somewhat) with her heart when off it. That was the word, wasn't it? She didn't trust him with her heart. Not really. A part of her was absolutely convinced that she was in love, but the other part was skeptical.

Finally, she raised her head from the desk.

"Garrus," she acknowledged him softly. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you," he answered. "You haven't left your cabin since we got back from Alchera."

Her head snapped up. "How long as it been?"

"Two days."

Emily sank back down, burying her head in her hands. "Shit."

"Shepard…Emily…" Garrus paused. "Whatever you might think, I…" He stopped again, clearly hesitant.

"Garrus, spit it out."

"I just want to say that…I'm here for you. No matter what."

She was silent for a long time, staring at the dog tags. There were no tears—she was past the crying—but she felt moved nonetheless.

"Thank you, Garrus," she said finally. "I appreciate it."

* * *

**ALCHERA**

Arthur McMahon let his eyes rove around the scene, quietly taking in the almost untouched snow and the wreckage of the Normandy. Nobody had been here yet. The snow was only disturbed by his footsteps, and his sister's.

He followed them through the snow, retracing her steps as she wandered aimlessly about the skeleton of her former ship. She stopped several times, turned around, even sat down once or twice in the snow. Occasionally she stopped, presumably to pick something up. There were scuff marks that indicated that the snow around it had been disturbed, but whatever it was, there was no way of telling. The prints led him to the destroyed sections of the ship, where she spent some time there before leaving. A MAKO lay tipped on its side with a scratched datapad in the snow next to it. Gingerly, Art bent down and picked it up. It was the personal log of Navigator Pressley, who'd gone down with the Normandy. He read through its contents and couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart when he realized that his sister was the same person on the battlefield that she had always been, the same idealistic, passionate girl he'd known her to be.

Bitterness engulfed her. Somewhere, somehow, she'd gotten the better end of the stick. Instead of being shamed and swept under the rug, she'd risen above her past and been able to make something of herself. And what had he done? He'd just tried to follow his dreams, but the Alliance didn't appreciate musicians. No, they'd rather have soldiers, and it was better to be killed in action than sent home crippled. (His left hand, rendered useless, was a permanent reminder of that.)

Fuck this, he thought. Fuck it all. He kicked up some snow and continued walking, not following in his sister's footsteps anymore. A glint of something metal caught his eye. He turned and as he came closer he could make out the outline of something rectangular on a chain, partially buried in the snow. He picked it up.

Engraved on one side in tiny letters was a name. It was a name he knew all too well, a name that had made his life hell even before the batarians had touched down on Mindoir. His blood ran cold.

ALLEN SHEPARD

His mind was reeling. This was not possible. His father had died on Mindoir; what the hell was his name doing in the wreckage of an Alliance prototype ship? He couldn't believe that his sister somehow had something to do with this, but…there had to be some explanation for this. Someone must have planted the tag there. Someone must be toying with her, and with him. But—and this was the million-credit question—why?

He wondered, also, why she hadn't found it first. If she had combed the wreck as meticulously as her footsteps indicated, surely she would have discovered it. Why hadn't she?

Arthur picked up the tag and headed back to the shuttle. It was evident that Emily was no longer her stoic self. She showed herself to be nostalgic; she was becoming emotional, possibly emotionally fractured. Maybe she'd seen the tag and refused to touch it, but that wasn't like her at all.

This changed everything, he thought. It was time to get back to the Citadel and maybe try to make sense of this. It seemed like all the ghosts of his past had decided to come back and haunt him at the exact same time, and he didn't like it one bit.

**A/N: I feel bad for taking such a long time to write such a short chapter. ): I'm running out of ideas for this story, if anyone has any inspiration please tell me! I will be eternally grateful. So, in a nutshell, I'm now taking requests for Shakarian. :D One thing is for certain, though. You will be reading about why Arthur and Emily never reunited, and exactly what their father did. Hint: Arthur got the brunt of the abuse.**

**I'd like to thank all of my little kumquats for their patience, but a shout-out to my usuals is in order: ITestedGarrussReach, Ember Filled Mist, Sathaeri, and Siha Shap. Thanks, guys. **


	15. A Brief Window

15: A Brief Window

**A/N: Uhh, so what follows is graphic/offensive/disturbing, methinks…feel free to skip over it if you're uncomfortable with pseudo-rape scenes. (That's a terrible way to put it... =_=)**

_Day twenty-one._

Emily lay awake in bed, her hands balled into fists in the covers. Tears streamed down her face and she bit back sobs as she heard the whimpering coming from the next room. The grunting, the pleading. She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to think about it. She clamped a pillow over her ears. She didn't want to hear it. She wished that it wasn't there, and maybe if she pretended hard enough it would go away.

Usually he left when he was done, zipping up his pants and returning to the master bedroom. Her mother would welcome him back into bed like nothing had happened, and then they'd hear snoring. But the whimpering, the crying would continue into the early hours of the morning. She'd had enough. If her mother wouldn't intervene, she would.

Angrily tossing the sheets off of herself, Emily rolled out of bed. She didn't even bother putting shoes on, she just balled her fists again and stormed into her brother's room. Almost immediately, she wished she hadn't.

For the life of her she couldn't look away, but she couldn't bear to watch, either. The sight of her brother, sprawled on all fours on the bed…his little face screwed up in pain, crying, tears staining his bedsheets, and _him_, kneeling behind him. It was sick. When it'd first started, the boy would scream and the man would push his face into the pillow. Now, the boy knew better. He valued his ability to breathe more than his ability to cry for help.

Emily bit her lip and she almost ran back into her room, like she'd done so many times before but she'd had enough. Before she knew it the words were out of her mouth.

"Stop it," she shouted, but her voice sounded weak. Strangled. Halfway to a sob. "Just stop it!"

The man stopped for a moment, and the man twisted to face her. The first thing she saw were her green eyes, copied exactly into the older face. And then the thin lips, almost exactly like hers. And then the one thing they didn't share—the sick, carnal hunger burning in his eyes that she would never forget, stamped behind her eyelids forever. She resisted the urge to look away.

"Go back to bed, honey," he said in a neutral voice, as if he'd merely been spotted sneaking the last cookie out of the fridge. But it wasn't that at all. Rage boiled in her veins.

"No," she said, her voice a little stronger. "Not until you stop hurting him."

"I'm not hurting him," he responded innocently. "I'm not hurting you, am I, Arthur?"

The boy didn't respond.

"I can always stop if I'm hurting you," he said in a reassuring voice. The boy didn't respond.

"How could you do this to your own son?" cried Emily.

"It's how I show him I love him!" reasoned her father. But the way he said it…it was as if she'd been yelling at her for rescuing a puppy and he was justifying himself. It made her sick.

There was a long, awkward silence.

"Go back to bed, Emily," her father growled. He turned away.

"Stop it!" she insisted. "Stop doing—_look me in the eye when you talk to me, you sick motherfucker_!"

He stopped then, pulling away from the boy. He collapsed onto the bed, burying his head in the sheets. He straightened up. Approached her. The hunger was gone from his eyes, replaced with murderous anger.

"What did you say to me?" he snarled, his voice low and deadly.

"I called you a sick motherfucker," she repeated, her voice perfectly steady. Gone was the fear, and the hesitation. There was only her, and him.

He started walking towards her. "Apologize," he snapped, his hands balling into fists. He stopped right in front of her, towering over her. "NOW!"

Tears filled her eyes again, but she shook her head. "No."

He lashed out at her then, and she dodged. She scrambled away, challenging him.

"You can't face it, can you?" she shouted, running down the hall. "Don't want to admit that you're a perverted, sodomizing, sick _faggot_!"

"Come back here, young lady!" roared Allen Shepard, his face red with anger. "I'm going to count to three!"

"What do you think Mom thinks of this?" she hissed, dancing just out of his reach. "What are you gonna do, huh? Am I next?"

"One!" the older Shepard shouted. He kept pursuing her and she kept dancing away, taunting him, until her back hit the wall and her heart leapt to her throat.

"Two!"

He came closer. Emily braced herself for inevitable pain.

"Three!"

"NO!" cried Emily, for what felt like the umpteenth time that night. Blindly, she lashed out with a blow of her own. There was a dull crack and her father howled, stumbling away from her, but then he struck back and her world went white. She ducked under his fist, kicking upward blindly and feeling grim satisfaction when her foot connected and he dropped to his knees, groaning. Breathless, her head spinning, she scrambled away from him.

Standing over her father then, with him on the ground—his moment of weakness, however fleeting, changed her. Standing over the man who terrorized her once, facing her fear and her scourge—she could not describe the feeling, but she knew that she would never be the same. No more cowering, no more crying. If she could have more moments like this, she would never have to stop.

Her euphoria was quickly crushed, however, when he seized her ankle and dragged her roughly to the floor.

* * *

Shepard had put off the retrieval of the Reaper IFF for as long as possible.

It was all too soon for her. The memories of the past few weeks, from the Lazarus Station to the Collector vessel faceoff to the countless memories she'd shared with Garrus to her crewmates and the way she'd seen them change—she couldn't believe that it might all be ending, soon. It wasn't that Shepard valued herself more than the galaxy. She was only one woman, but the galaxy, despite all the evil and depravity it held, was also an untold treasure trove of life, and lives. If giving them a little more time to exist meant her sacrifice, it was a small price to pay.

And yet, Shepard refused to die again. It was too soon. She refused to have her life cut short so soon after being given a second chance. Perhaps it wasn't living itself that kept her shackled to the mentality of survival. She had lived solely to finish the job since day one…but the moment she had found Garrus on Omega, that all changed.

As much as she hated to admit it, her heart beat for him now.

Sometimes, on her good days, she wondered how it'd all happened. How had it happened that a washed-up turian rebel and a washed-up Alliance wunderkind-turned-pariah had managed to find comfort in each other's arms? Were they really that desperate? It was quite laughable, when she thought of it from an outsider's standpoint.

Ashley probably would have said something witty, something utterly hilariously poetic, that would somehow explain everything. Something about how opposites attracted in the most horrific of ways and somehow managed to work. Then she'd quote Walt Whitman. Or someone. And then they'd laugh. Sometimes Shepard wished she'd left Kaidan to die on Virmire instead of Ash, but even if she'd known the repercussions of her choice…at the time, it would've been Kaidan. Every time. _Things have changed._

She'd brought Garrus and Tali along with her for this mission. She'd wanted the kick of nostalgia it gave her, just like old times, working with two young aliens with stars in their eyes and an idealism that she could only match in her teenage years. There hadn't been as much on her shoulders then, and she'd liked the feeling of being a mentor. Fighting space zombies. The usual.

Well, the space zombies hadn't exactly been anticipated.

As wave after wave of seemingly endless husks appeared from every nook and cranny of the derelict Reaper ship, Shepard couldn't help but bitterly reflect on the fact that she'd put off the retrieval of the Reaper IFF for as long as possible. _So much for preparation_, she thought. It struck her that she probably should have expected something like this to happen. If she'd gotten here earlier, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad.

One last set of doors yawned before them. Shepard stopped in front of it, slightly out of breath, and reached out to open it. What followed was rather anticlimactic.

The IFF was lying on a small table folding out from the wall, with the word "REAPER IFF" scrawled on it in black marker. Feeling kind of stupid, Emily reached out and took it.

"That was it?" asked Tali, surprised.

"I guess," she remarked. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

The whole Reaper ordeal brought back odd memories, and an even stranger sense of nostalgia.

Shepard remembered the days before her death, when they'd been pursuing Saren. Looking back, those days felt like the idyllic ones of an embattled human Spectre, but she knew better. Nothing had been easy about bringing Saren to justice.

Maybe it'd felt easier because she'd legitimately cared about the cause.

What she felt now was not apathy—Shepard cared greatly for the cause she was fighting for—but perhaps a lack of passion, a lack of conviction. Emily risked her life for humanity because she had to, but the days of following her heart and her head in seeking justice felt...removed. She felt that she no longer cared, and with good reason. Even though it was the Collectors that had killed her, she felt that this was no longer her battle.

She'd found something new to care about. And while it might have seemed petty to the rest of the world, it meant everything to her.


End file.
